


Goat of Tomorrow

by Ononymous



Series: DCUU - DC Underground Universe [1]
Category: DCU (Comics), Superman (Comics), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 06:58:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11595315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: Superman's adventure in the Underground was probably one of the less unusual things that had happened to him that month, but he couldn't call it worthwhile without trying to reach out to someone who needed his help...





	Goat of Tomorrow

"...but the byline has got to be shared. You wouldn't have gotten that scoop about the smugglers if I hadn't distracted the guards."

"If you hadn't knocked over that crate, you mean. You don't always have to play the clumsy goofball you know."

"Second nature by now, Lois."

They shared warm smiles. The two people were sitting on their couch with coffee, discussing the rigours of their job and how to divvy up the spoils.

"I bet Bruce doesn't accidentally kiss Selina when they meet at night."

"Well, he's told me a few stories about that..." They laughed.

"Okay, Smallville, I'll share my toys. Right, next on the agenda: Perry wanted one of us to write about Lex's speech about 'the Ebott thing'. I think you've swung him round on what to think about it in general, but if you're too busy spellchecking my work..."

"It's okay, Lois, I can write it up."

"Really? He goes into a lot of detail. 'Menace' this, 'threat' that."

"Well, it's no worse than what he says about me."

"Touche, Clark."

"Anyway, word from the Gotham Gazette is he's mad because their King rebuffed Lexcorp's advances of a joint research venture."

"Does their King read the Planet? I remember a few articles recently penned by a clever journalist covering their funnelling of research into military applications."

"The Gazette mentioned that. I think the author's name was 'Floris Blane' or something."

Another hearty laugh. As they enjoyed a minute or two in each other's warm silence, Clark thought back to 'the Ebott thing'. About a year had passed since he had decided to write a small fluff piece about the legends surrounding the mountain, but discovered there was more than a grain of truth to it, with a string of missing person reports going back who knows how long. And then when cross referencing he found an old book, part diary and part official chronicle, in an antiques shop hinting at some sort of spell on the mountain.

A brief consultation with Doctor Fate helped them confirm that such a spell was indeed in place, and how it was supposed to work, and how the spell could be broken. So it looked like someone or something was striving for freedom, and depending on how many missing person reports were linked to it, they were nearly finished. The power of the spell precluded the magically inclined members of the Justice League from modifying it, so the only solution was to go there in person and see how the preparations were going and, if necessary, stop them. So he rebuffed all offers of accompaniment or replacement from his colleagues, flew straight to the mountain, entered a small cave, descended down a hole and-

Made some friends.

He didn't know whether the denizens of the underground had mellowed out from their long confinement, or whether it had all been a terrible misunderstanding. He was inclined towards the latter though. Fear was too potent in those days, Sinestro would have had a field day. But he had eaten spaghetti and cooked spaghetti and spent time among garbage. He had learned of their despair, of the desperate straights the monsters had gone to, things he understood but would have to put an end to.

So he went to see the king. A surprisingly cheerful man, given all he had heard of him, but his eyes had lost something a long time ago. It had actually come to blows, but when the king had hesitated, a brief blast of heat vision had disarmed him. Dejected, the king explained Superman's soul wouldn't work, that the monster ability to take souls which had caused their banishment only worked with human souls, and he wasn't human. This was the opening he needed to encourage them to find another way, that he had resources of science and magic and with them, they could circumvent the barrier without anyone else getting hurt. And as his new friends arrived, he explained how he was willing to stay and help until-

And that's when a flower showed up and derailed everyone's plans. It had worked out in the end, though. Well, mostly worked out. The final piece depended on a small boy not giving up...

* * *

Dig... dig... dig...

Small white paws, stained with the soil, carefully moved flowers around the large bed, where a friend laid at rest. When done, a large patch of clear earth lay bare of any other flowers. He sighed with relief now that the work is done. He would have somewhere comfortable to plant when it happened. Nothing to do now but wait.

Asriel sat near the flowerbed, rubbing dirt off his hands, wondering what he should do. He knew what he wanted to do, and therefore what he shouldn't do. He decided to settle on looking up at the hole in the cavern roof. Sunlight shone peacefully and faintly from the entrance above. Sure would have been nice to see the sun...

"Looks pretty, doesn't it?"

He turned around sharply. It was him again. Still dressed in his blue tights and red cape, still with his jet black hair and a winning smile, but with gentle eyes looking down at the child on the ground. The red and yellow 'S' on his chest seemed brighter than the rest of him.

"S-Superman?" spluttered Asriel, "I-I didn't hear you approach."

"I can be very quiet when I want to be." he joked. "And you should see a friend of mine if you want surprises like that. But Asriel, you don't have to call me that. I told you my name."

"Alright, Sup- I mean Clark." It was very strange talking to someone he had fought a short while ago as if it never happened. "What are you doing here?"

"Same thing I do everywhere. I'm trying to help someone in trouble."

Asriel looked crestfallen. "I already told you, Clark. You can't help me. Nobody can. It's best you forget about me."

"Now hold on." Clark interrupted. "I bet you're think of 'helping people' in the way of saving them from imminent danger, like stopping fires and punching meteors. And that is definitely a large part of it. But people need different kinds of help even if their lives aren't in danger. Sometimes all they need is a visit and a talk. And I figured you fit that description."

They made eye contact. Sapphire Blue into Emerald Green. The emeralds shimmered with tears. "And what good is visiting me?"

"Well, as long as I'm around, you're not lonely-"

"But I will be. I'll be alone and in the dark and I won't even care and I won't even be able appreciate you coming here and you saying these things after I tried to destroy you because your soul was worthless and-"

The ramble broke down into incoherence as Asriel struggled between pushing Clark away and seeking absolution. Clark flicked his vision through the EM spectrum. Asriel wasn't exaggerating. Compared to the other monsters he had met and examined down here, there was a force dwindling within the child. He didn't know how long it would take, but he had no reason to doubt Asriel's prediction.

"Listen, why don't I take you to visit my friends? Quite a few know magic, maybe one of them could help keep you stable. And even if they can't help, then maybe we could put you in stasis until we find a way."

"*Sniff* Thanks Super, uh, Clark. But I don't think magic will fix this. And for stasis," He sighed heavily, "it's not enough. It can never be enough. I don't deserve-"

"Asriel." Despite the gentle tone and sudden hand on his shoulder, the force silenced the child. "It's never as bad as it seems. _You_ are never as bad as you seem."

"But I killed-"

"Do you know how I lasted long enough to call out to you? To remind you who you were? Who you still are?"

Asriel gave a slight shake of the head.

"Because I don't give up. It's easy for a guy who can lift a boulder to talk about not giving up, but it really takes more than that. Power is meaningless if you can't decide when to use it. Or decide when not to use it. Flying away from the fight would have been giving up, but so would have been actually attacking you. But giving up never helped anyone, son. Trust me on that. An exploding star or two to the chest is worth finding another way."

In spite of everything, Asriel gave a small smile. It quickly faltered however.

"But... but it doesn't matter if I 'try' or 'never give up'. I don't have a soul. Determination won't grow a new one. I won't have the power to keep this form, and when it goes, I won't care about giving up! I'll just be alone with my thoughts for who knows how long, and it's better that way. I won't hurt anyone."

Another flick through the EM spectrum. What must be the power he described indeed continued to dwindle. Even if he returned to the Justice League know and explained what was going on, it's unlikely any of the magic users could stabilise his form. Stasis would be the only solution, and despite everything else the look in Asriel's eyes when that was discussed made him feel he didn't have the right to force it on him.

That being said, there was something else too, now. Something small but growing, and it was also something he had seen in other monsters. He thought back to conversations he had with other monsters, what their books had said, and a possibility occurred to him. His face might have twitched a little at it, but Bruce was good at showing others how to keep a poker face, and in any case Asriel was too caught up in his own situation to notice. He wanted to explore this new possibility, but it would go a lot easier if Asriel agreed to it. He better keep trying to encourage him.

"Some would say it's better to have tried and failed than never tried."

"Yeah," he sounded defeated. ", well some never turned into a flower and killed their parents."

This was a tricky situation. Asriel had done a lot to feel terrible for, even if there could never be any proof of it but his own memory, and helping him work through that would take time he didn't have. Clark wanted to check out this new line of enquiry before it was too late, and had to formulate a plan to get Asriel to cooperate.

"Well one time we were turned against each other by a bad guy called Grodd. He has telepathic powers, affected our minds so we fought each other."

"And you think someone mind controlled me?" Asriel looked sceptical. "I wish that was the case, but I remember everything I did. It was my own decision."

"I'm not denying that, son. But it's not like Grodd took control of our bodies and made them hit each other. It was more sinister. He just blocked a few things. Temper control. Our sense of right and wrong. Our ability to care. And he also stoked our anger and irritation. Does that ring a bell?"

Asriel fiddled with his ear. "Actually, that's kinda what it's like."

"I thought it might be. We remember the fights we had, and we're not happy about what we did, as the clever part of his plan was that all the anger came from our own thoughts. We may not have been able to think and feel as we usually did, but we still made those decisions. But we're not mad at each other for arguing. I'd say most of us were mad at ourselves. We felt bad for thinking that way in the first place, even if we know we'd normally never act on it. And I bet that rings a bell too."

"But!" rushed Asriel, seemingly set on swatting all excuses aside. "That was still somebody else messing you up. Flowey might not be able to think or care properly, but it was because of what I did that I became Flowey! I made that decision while I could think and feel the way I can right now! If I properly understood and appreciated what it was Chara was really asking me to do, if I had said no sooner, then I wouldn't have died. I wouldn't have been reborn like that and I wouldn't have-"

He choked up again. Clark thought back to everything he had learned about the first human to cross the monsters' path, and everything Asriel had explained to him in that brief window between reminding him who he was and the barrier breaking. Another pat of the shoulder was clearly what was called for here.

"You have a lot of pain. I don't need x-ray vision to see that. Much more pain than a child should, even one who's been around as long as you have. I know another boy like you, caught up in something wonderful and dangerous, and even when he's protecting people, he feels terrible when they get hurt. I've found him crying in remote spots. Blaming himself for things he couldn't help. Chara had a lot of pain too, from what you told me. But they must have had love too, or you'd have never made friends. But they allowed that pain to consume them, and tore their family apart. Some people can't help but make that decision, but it was still their decision. And you did the right thing in the end about the plan, you said that to me yourself. You couldn't have predicted what happened. Nobody could."

That small piece of reassurance was the first Asriel had received in a century. It brought along uncontrolled sobbing. He ran into Superman's arms, which scooped him up and folded firmly around him.

"I... I miss them so much... they used me and so many people got hurt and I miss them..."

"I know, Asriel. That's normal. It's healthy to know when people you like are doing wrong. Just as it's healthy to recognise when you've hurt other people and make it up to them by, say, shattering a magic barrier that imprisoned them."

Another weak chuckle. Even a smile. Another quick check of the EM spectrum. Even in the past few minutes there had been quite a development. It was now or never.

"Hey," said Clark, "I've an idea. If you think your time is running out, wanna see the sun?"

"The sun?" his tone didn't express much interest, but there was a faint longing in his eyes. "But the exit's ages away-"

"You forget," a flash of teeth and a wink, "I can fly!"

And he was. They were already three feet off the ground. Genuine wonder built in Asriel's face.

"You might want to climb onto my back and hold on tight."

The emeralds devoid of tears for the first time in minutes, Asriel carefully clambered around and gripped his shoulders tightly. Superman gently ascended through the hole he had originally entered, and through the cave entrance. The mountainside was steeped in shadow.

"Oh, the mountain's in the way." he sounded slightly crestfallen again at the promise being dashed. "But the sky and clouds look-"

WOOSH.

Straight up. It didn't take long for Asriel's fur to brighten up as they cleared the mountain's shadow. Before he could even exclaim in shock they dove straight through a cloud and out the other side before stopping, and slowly turning around.

"It's...it's beautiful."

All thoughts of past or future erased, Asriel was completely in the present. Now for a bit of fun. Down.

Turning sharply as they approached the top of the trees, Superman rocketed past, the cheers of the small child just about making it past the rushing wind. They followed the course of a nearby stream, huge splashes watering the banks behind them as they skimmed the surface. Up again. Roads with tiny cars moving back and forth leading towards a huge city. A few spins and loop de loops, and back to the clouds.

As he flew inches beneath a particularly fluffy one, Clark felt one hand detatch itself from his shoulder, so he slowed down just in case. A quick glance back, and sure enough Asriel had one hand sticking in the cloud, carving a long thin scar along the belly.

"Wow, it really is water! The book was right, my hand's all wet!"

Keeping the timeframe of his goal in mind, Superman waited until the fuzzy hand reattached itself to his shoulder, then did a sharp u-turn that momentarily had Asriel upside down, a fact he whooped in joy at. He then made a beeline for Mount Ebott again. Casting a wide circle around the sunlit surface, he noticed an opening and plateau half way up the mountain. That must be where the barrier had been, where he had appealed to the King. Indeed, figures of a variety of sizes and colours were milling around. He flew close enough that they'd probably recognise him, but not that he was carrying a passenger. Sure enough, they started waving. Time to check.

Focusing his vision, he saw the white specks at the core of each of the crowd. And from two of the larger spectators, slender white strands seemed to flow towards him, but then around him, as if their quarry was behind him. In his mind, that sealed it. The situation was looking good, and a few choice words should put the capstone on it.

Enough flying now. Time to return. Around the mountain. As they did he noticed what looked like a human dressed in blue and purple in the nearby woods pointing at him excitedly. Whether they saw his passenger, he wasn't sure. Slow down now. Softly lower onto the ground, stride into the cave. Gently down the hole. Before the flowerbed with the clear patch.

Asriel was pumped full of whatever monsters had that served as adrenaline. "That was incredible! Thank you, Clark! Thank you so much, it will be great to do... that... again..."

The present had loosened its grip, and the future was stepping in to remind him of what was coming next. The sombre resignation he had worn when preparing the flowerbed was reasserting itself.

"You'd better go now. I can't have much time."

"That's the third time you've said that to me," Clark said cheerfully, "and it probably is time I go..."

"Oh..." his tone had a mask of detached acceptance, but he could hear the pleading note beneath it. The open secret was confirmed. Asriel really didn't want him to go, to be alone. He just thought it had to be this way.

"But before I do, I have to ask you to do one more thing."

"Uh, okay."

"Do monsters have a spell that let them look through other people's eyes?"

Asriel looked nonplussed. "Y-yeah."

"Do you know it?"

"Yeah..."

"Cast it on me. I want to show you something."

Completely perplexed, he reached up and gently touched Clark's face. He felt the spell flow from his hand...

...and saw himself lowering down again. For a second he was just regarding himself. Then his image flickered a lot. Asriel could see his own bones, see himself shaded in oranges and reds while the flowers behind him were green and blue, and then...and then...

Everything else looked dark, inert. He stood there, greenish-purple in his core, though his extremities were pretty dark and slowly getting darker. But in the center...

"What is..." he saw himself say, his hands clutching his chest, "...is that-?"

A small inverted heart, currently the size of a large pebble, dwelt at his core among the green and purple. Two white tendrils extended out of it, wrapping around Superman and, as Superman turned his head, away through the Ruins and the Underground. The shock broke the spell.

"Was that... a soul?"

A smile and a wink.

"But... how?!"

"I thought back to a conversation I had with Mister Gerson. You and your parents are Boss Monsters, right?" A nod. "Well, Boss Monsters age through passing their soul power to their children. Looks like once you became, well, you, that reforged the connection to your parents, and their soul power is passing into you again. You can have a full soul of your own someday."

Emotion wrestled for control. "But... but..." his dejection won out again. "I can still feel it. It's not enough. I'll still turn into a flower."

"...Yes." he acknowledged. The smile was gone, but those baby blue eyes remained bright. "But now the connection is there, I think your soul will still develop. In time, it can become strong enough that you can have your body again."

"You really think so?"

"Well, as long as you never give up."

They both chuckled.

"It's going to be hard, and I don't know how long it will take. But now you know it isn't forever. Try and cling to your memories. Remember how amazing it was to see the sun. It might get easier as time moves on. But here's another motivator: Once you're ready, I'll take you on another trip."

"Really? But how will you know when I'm, you know, ready?"

"Hmm..." he mused. Eyeing a patch of wall five feet above the ground, Clark's eyes glowed red. Before long, a small recess was carved. Fishing in his belt, he extracted what looked like a watch.

"This is a hypersonic beacon. Press this red button, and I'll hear the signal. I'm putting it here, where you can reach right now but when you, well, don't feel like using it you won't be able to. When you're ready, I'll take you for a ride, and then to your parents. I advise you not to wait. If your father ever decides to get a shave or a haircut he might realise what's going on."

A final chuckle. Then suddenly Clark's face was full of fur.

"Thank you, Clark. I'll never give up. I'll never stop trying. I'll make it up to them."

"That's the spirit. See you soon, Asriel!"

For the second time Superman ascended through the cavern roof, glancing at the white figure waving up at him.

* * *

And as he thought of that final glimpse of a small boy with resolve to endure a large burden, as if on cue, a faint familiar buzzing started in his ears. He looked up suddenly.

Lois knew that look. "What, is Jimmy a Giant Turtle again?"

"Not this time, Lois."

"You mean it's who you told me about...?"

"I have to go. I've got a promise to keep."

Clark walked into the master bedroom. Lois felt a breeze as the window opened, and then heard a familiar woosh. Maybe she should write a prologue about Lex's speech for him while he was busy with this. She could use that to leverage her way onto the byline of this, too.

As Clark picked up speed, the part of his mind that had Bruce's voice urged caution. That someone or something else may have triggered the beacon. Or that the burden proved too heavy and he had surrendered to his old habits. It urged him to prepare to see just a hostile flower, or something worse.

Another voice, sounding remarkably like that of Billy's, cut across the cynicism. It reminded him of the unmistakable determination he had to endure when they parted, and of that resolve that he could undeniably sense in him, even just as a journalist, never mind x-ray or microscopic vision. And of the fact that there was definitely a soul there, so even if he wasn't ready now, he would be soon. 

As was pretty standard, Billy won out over Bruce. This determination stuff the monsters talked about was nice, but every now and then you just need some good old fashioned _hope_.

**Author's Note:**

> Picture Asriel dropping his cellphone from a tall skyscraper and hopefully you get what I was going for with this.
> 
> Original draft: https://pastebin.com/g8RCzbAw
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
